


Wonder

by Cryptid_inDisguise



Category: Original Work
Genre: Alice in Wonderland References, Card Suits as Kingdoms, Dreams and Nightmares, Fluff and Humor, Gen, Multi, What-If, Whimsy, Wonderland, Wonderland without Alice, has Angst I guess
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-22
Updated: 2021-02-07
Packaged: 2021-03-07 21:26:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 14,409
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26534326
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cryptid_inDisguise/pseuds/Cryptid_inDisguise
Summary: I'm obsessed with "Alice's Adventures in Wonderland and Through the Looking-Glass" by Lewis Carroll so of course I'm going to make my own story in/give my own take on my favorite fantasy world. It's rough just like my other stories but I'm pretty sure this one I won't change. Don't quote me on that, though.
Relationships: original male character/ original non-binary character





	1. Chapter 1

Chess Hatcher, a child of peculiar situations has found themselves in a peculiar situation yet again, though that is nothing but not unordinary. Hanging from a tree by one of their ankles swinging slowly back-and-forth, annoyance written on their face; their heterochromic eye-colors alternating from one eye to the next. Arms folded across their chest and their free ankle resting against the back of their knee shaking their foot, irritated. They haven't planned this day to start with the Tweedle-brothers, Tweedle-dum and Tweedle- _dumber_ , ruffled through their belongings as they hung there watching but that is exactly what is happening. One of them (one can never tell which is which both look alike and are as _equally stupid_ ) pulls out a very prized silver spoon from the tailcoat he was searching and, not even giving it a seconds glance pocketed it. Chess had earned that spoon fair and square after beating the March Hare, yes _the_ March Hare, at a game of Rock-Paper-Scissors (almost losing an eye to a pair of scissors) They were not keen on the idea of parting with that spoon.

“When I get down from here," Chess thrashed and began to sway violently. “ I swear I’ll bloody- oof!” in thrashing they swung directly into the tree hard enough to know a knot will form. Both the Tweedle-brothers laughed, continuing there pillaging. "I don't even remember doing anything to become cross with you two!" they seethed. 

"You didn't do noffin', we're doin' this f'r the 'ell of it."

"Ye, f'r the 'ell of it." 

"Well stop doing it 'for the 'ell of it', its irritating and all the blood is rushing to my head!" Chess began trying to grab the rope restraining their ankle. "Besides, We're all," with a spades shaped dagger they began cutting the rope quickly as the brothers began to speed their pillaging. "Part of the same-"

"Pardon me?" A small voice rang through the bustling scene. The brothers and Chess stop and look at the new comer in shock. A Hare-folk of pure white fur stared wide-eyed at the three, her ears slowly falling back, flat against her head; human nose twitching. Silence was broken when the rope holding Chess aloft snapped, with a sharp yelp they landed on their head. The Tweedle-brothers, ignoring Chess' fall, smiled brightly as they walked to the Hare-folk. 

" 'ello~," Tweedle-Dee cooed. His brother slid up to the side of the Hare-folk as she mumbled a greeting. "Who are you?" 

"I-I'm, um-" Looking at Tweedle-Dum and straightening up she proudly stated "My name is Guinevere White," looking at the two she continued. "of Hearts, and I mustn't be late. Good day." With a nod of her head, her ears perked back up and she tried to step away, the boys intercepted her.

"Late f'r wut?"

"Ya, f'r wut?" 

"I have no time, no time!" She tried pushing past the brothers. 

"Wut's this?" one asked, holding a brass watch by its chain. Guinevere reached for it but it was thrown to the other for examination. 

"My pocket watch," She snatched it from the clutches of the boy. "and I must really be on my way, I mustn't be late."

It should be stated that at this time Chess had begun to do what they do best, cultivate and enacting an escape plan. Drinking the small vial of horrendously sweet 'Drink me' they had hidden, they began to sneak away. Upon hearing the brothers ask about the watch they knew the poor girl was going to leave with less items than she had and began making their way over to the brothers instead. White ears twitched slightly as Guinevere stole a quick glance down at Chess who pressed a finger to their lips. 

"Never killed no one, being late." one of the Tweedle-brothers spoke taking a step towards her, she stepped farther away. Taking this as a chance to eat an 'Eat me' cake, Chess used to slowly growing weight on the one who was farther behind his brother and Hare-folk. As the brother fell to the ground, Guinevere with a squeak, ran behind a tree.

Chess was able to knock out the first brother rather easily, as well as taking a few punches. The other brother wasn't quite as easy to take out but after he landed a few good hits on Chess, a good punch to the gut and a knee to the face finally did him. 

"That'll teach you to take my belongings," Chess groaned as they retrieved the spoon and began collecting their belongings, at least this time they didn’t have to buy back everything. Guinevere slinked out from behind her hiding place watching Chess with awe. "Gwen White of Hearts right?" She startled at Chess' sudden question as they turned to look at her. "I never forget a face."

She was cautious as she answered looking at the now partially unconscious Tweedle-brothers. "Actually it’s Guinevere."

"What I say?"

"You said Gwe-"

"Oh, dear! Where are my manners!" Chess dramatically bowed "My name is Chess, Chess Hatcher... of Boards, and these are the Tweedle-brother it's impossible to know which is which but know one is Tweedle-dee and the other Tweedle-dum," They jabbed a thumb at the lumps on the ground behind, grumbles and moans accompanied the lumps.

"Hatcher, as in," she paused looking around before leaning in to whisper as if to tell a secret, Chess leaned in to hear. "as in the Jack of all Trades? Are you- are you telling me you are _him_?"

Leaning back Chess let a strained laugh leave them "Oh no, not him," they smile and give her a wink "I am neither _him_ nor _her_ , I am who I simply am.'' At her confusion they give her a bright grin before telling her she should run along, its been almost an hour since she stopped and she bolted off with a rushed good-bye. 

"Hearts, huh?" Chess smiled softly brushing dirt off the brim of their top hat.

*******

"Clayton Red," Clayton heard his name called from the throne to his right, the honey voice demanding to be heard. He looked up at the throne and saw his mother, the Red Queen. A beautiful black-haired, pale-skinned, brown-eyed woman looking down at him, her face in a permanent tired grimace. "Hold your head up," She looked forward and demonstrated what she spoke, her elegance made him envious. "If you let your head hang, your crown will fall," she paused as some guards took a prisoner away. "and if your crown falls, you will be considered _weak_." she spat the last word like it was cold tea. 

"Yes Mother." Clayton whispers as he straightens his back.

She was always going on about weakness and that the subjects of the kingdom would roar in uprising at the slightest ragged breath. He had a feeling it had something to do with her past interactions with the common-folk when her Mother, the _Queen of Hearts_ , ruled. He tried to understand where she stood, being the daughter of a tyrannical ruler that even the slightest breath could have ended in death was not an easy thing to prove she was not when she became Queen. There are times Clayton overhears the servants whisper in hushed tones about resemblances between the two. He loves his Mother and knows she tries not to be like the infamous Queen of Hearts but when the temper of the Queen is lost, its hard for him not to see resemblances as well. 

"Where is that Time Keeper's apprentice? We're behind schedule already as it is, and you father still isn’t here, " The Queen sighed as the door to the throne room burst open. "Speak of such!"

"Forgiveness!" Guinevere screeched as she came running into the middle "Please I beg forgiveness, I was," she stopped and took a deep breath. "I was stopped by the Tweedle-brothers," Clayton and the Queen both straightened, Two known Hatters this far in the Kingdom. She took another deep breath before adding cautiously "and saw the Jack of all trades."

The Queens cold eyes pierced into Guinevere who squeaked, "the Hatcher boy is in _my kingdom_?!" she stood up "I want him found, I want him found now!" the guards bowed and hastily left and the Queen barked more orders. The King walked in and promptly turned around leaving the frenzy happening in the room.

Clayton felt an overwhelming unknown feeling rise in his chest seeing his mother rage over the fact that Chess has been seen within the Kingdom, They were a troublesome being of considerable interest in all four of the Kingdoms (much like their Father), after all being the direct kin of _the_ Mad Hatter and the former Ace of Spades is already call for infamy. "The Jack of All Trades, huh?" he smiled to himself, leaving his throne (minuscule compared to the Queens) and walked out of the room leaving the sound of yelling behind. Images of a small clearing hidden from the castle’s view came to mind. "Maybe I should pay a visit."

~~~

_“ ’Twas brillig, and the slithy toves, Did gyre and gimble in the wabe: All mimsy were the borogoves, And the mome raths outgrabe.” Her voice was like cream but her tone was dire, “Beware the Jabberwock, my son! The jaws that bite, the claws that catch! Beware the Jubjub bird, and shun the frumious Bandersnatch!” She leaned forward and grasped at the two children in front of her, the smaller child gasped and partially hid behind the other, his heterochromic eyes changing wildly (one a bright green and the other an unnerving purple color). The one being used as a protector leaned forward closer to her, brown-eyes wide with excitement._

_“He took his vorpal sword in hand; Long time the manxome foe he sought—So rested he by the Tumtum tree and stood awhile in thought. And, as in uffish thought he stood, The Jabberwock, with eyes of flame, came whiffling through the tulgey wood, and burbled as it came!” She hunched forward and wiggled her fingers as she contorted her face into that of a snarling beast, both giggled at her. Quickly she shot back in her chair mimicking the movement of a sword. “One, two! One, two! And through and through, The vorpal blade went snicker-snack! He left it dead, and with its head he went galumphing back.” The brown-eyed boy ‘whooped’ as the other child came out from hiding now with a look of excitement towards the other, still holding onto his friend’s nightshirt. The woman smiled fondly before continuing._

_“And hast thou slain the Jabberwock? Come to my arms, my beamish boy! O frabjous day! Callooh! Callay!” He chortled in his joy.” She opened her arms and the two children leaped into them, all three broke into fits of laughter. As she calmed the two down they now sat on either of her legs. “ ’Twas brillig, and the slithy toves, Did gyre and gimble in the wabe: All mimsy were the borogoves, And the mome raths outgrabe.” She finished the story letting her fingers rake through the wild eyed child’s hair, the brown-eyed boy grinned from ear to ear._

_“I hope the Bandersnatch stays far away from use.”_

_The brown-eyed boy frowned “Chess there’s no such thing as a Bandersnatch, is a story made up to scare little kids.” He stated matter-of-factly, Chess let a small ‘oh’ fall from his lips._

_“That's not true,” she smiled as he turned to her. “There was a time the Jabberwocky almost caught me.” she tapped the scar on her jaw, both stared at her in shock. “I was lucky someone fended it off.”_

_“Was it the boy in the story, Mama?” Chess asked, reaching up and touching the scar afraid to hurt her._

_“No, sadly. In Fact, it only ran off because the one who saved me caused too much noise.”_

_Chess scrunched his nose, he knew exactly who she was speaking of. “Papa doesn’t look capable of making that much noise.”_

_Clayton sat sceptically, arms across his chest “I don’t buy it. Mother says the Jabberwocky is only a legend and that there’s no such thing as a ‘Bandersnatch’. Plus if there was, my Father would have its hide as a trophy.”_

_The woman smiled warmly as she removed both from her lap, “That is very true,” she winced as she stood. “I suppose you’re right, little Prince.” She walked over to where Clayton was crawling onto his bed and she tucked him under. “But one can never be sure what is isn’t, and if what isn’t never will be.” Walking to the door, Chess followed behind her. “Good night, your highness.”_

_“Goodnight, Clayton.” Chess smiled before following his Mother._

_Watching her back he felt himself slowing as she got farther and farther away, confused he tried to catch up. She continued to get farther and farther away, even when he started running._

_As she walked grey spindly clawed hands reached out of the walls and began closing around her._

_No, don’t go, don’t leave, stay, stay please. Don’t leave me Mama. Mama!_

~~~

“Mama!” Chess shot up on their cot losing balance and tipping it over, flailing about in a mess of blanket, limbs, and gasping breath. Thick brown untamed hair stuck out in every which way; parts were wavy, parts were curled, one part of their bangs looked like it had been crimped, there was a small braid under their hair on the right side, and a faint hint of green and purple streaks under their hair on the left side. They raked their fingers through the mess of hair trying to remove some knots before they decided nothing could be done about it. Groaning they detangled themself from their blanket and steaded their breathing.

It’s been a while since their last nightmare, of course it would be about their mother. After her death their father took them and left the Kingdom of Hearts and moved to the Boardlands where they were raised into a life no mother would have wanted for her child. Now they live wandering all over, hardly staying long enough for people to recognize them or report them to authority. Sanity forbid someone tells their father their whereabouts, that's the worst possible scenario. 

Yesterday however after a chance meeting with the tweedle-brothers and a Hare-folk. All of the Hearts likely know that the infamous ‘Jack of All Trades’ is here. This would usually mean they leave instantly but there’s someone they made a promise to themselves they would visit no matter what. And after that dream, they really don’t want to be alone. With the thought of a small clearing hidden from the view of the castle, they began packing their cot reverting it back into the small trinket of a bed. 

*******

Clayton woke up from another dreamless night, his eyes still adjusting to the morning light. With a sigh he left the warmth of his comforter behind. Looking at himself in the mirror he grimaced, his black hair was in a horrible state of bedhead. The short asymmetrical undercut seemed irregular in it's new state. The red heart design on the right side of his hair was now a blob. He had dark circles under his eyes making him seem older than he was and, sanity forbid! Was that a pimple forming near his mouth? 

No, he leaned forward and saw it was his mole, he frowned almost mad he didn’t have something to show for his stress. His mother put the kingdom on high alert, and closed all borders, no one in or out. She was going to have Chess in front of her one way or another. She expected him to help with the searches that she deemed necessary after he left the throne room, a guard had informed him. He didn’t get back from the first search until half-past tea time, and he wasn’t able to sneak to the kitchens to steal a tart. He hoped Chess was somewhere, anywhere that wasn’t here. 

Making himself more presentable he strapped his saber to his belt before heading out to face the new day.

Hearing his Mother and father in the dining hall he walked passed. Not feeling like being around anyone he began walking, not paying attention to where he walked; Letting his feet guide him. When he finally stopped he found himself in the winding forest of tumtum trees tracing his fingers over the claw marks left by the legendary Jabberwocky, or at least that's what someone once told him caused them. As he walked into a clearing his eyes had a look of sorrow. The two moons in the morning sky watched as he traced his fingers over the gashed bark. 

“ _The great claws that catch._ ” Sighing, he let his hand fall to his side.

“Well, isn’t this a queer sight to see,” Chess walked from behind one of the trees. “You look very… Mimsy, my Red Prince.” the last two words rolled off their tongue playfully as they mockingly bowed, top hat to their chest. 

Clayton looked at Chess as they circled him “You are looking as equally as peculiar as ever.” 

An old weathered and grimy mahogany based mad hatter top hat was covered in ripped and tattered black lace, a pine green bond has been darkened with stains as two old playing cards were tucked into it (the Ace of Spades tucked under the Jack of Spades) sat atop their mess of a hairstyle.

“Why are you here, my mother is on the hunt for you,” He rested his hand lazily on his saber hilt looking Chess over and sneered at their choice of clothing. Their high waisted auburn brown pants looked big on their thin frame. Victorian style dark brown boots, possibly a size too small, were weathered with age. They wore a white wingtip collared shirt under a green velvet vest with a golden neck scarf tied into a bow. A broken brass pocket watch hung from their vest pocket, black cloth fingerless gloves, spade-shaped cufflinks, a walking cane with an intricately carved handle, and a stained and tattered dark wine colored cutaway coat. Their face and clothes were filthy. 

“Oh, the poor dear is being driven mad over me, isn’t she?” 

“No, but I am,” Clayton whispered as his gaze drifted over their weathered appearance before settling on the wonders Chess calls eyes. Ever changing bright green and unnerving purple, Sanity! He loved looking into those eyes. Chess quizzically took a step closer, holding their cane behind their back. Clayton realized he was staring, cleared his throat and took a step back, now blushing. 

“Worried are we?” Chess shrugged and walked away. Clayton found himself following absentmindedly falling in step next to them. 

“Of course I am, the last time I saw you,” Clayton stopped them with a hand on their arm. “Last time you were in shackles headed to the Dusts!” He didn’t want to think of Chess forced to the grey sands of the East, hot and oh so filthy. 

“Mmm, yes that wouldn’t have been desirable,” Chess turned completely to Clayton and removed his hand from their arm. “Though no one knows, I might have found the next greatest ‘Bizarre Bazaar’ Item!” They began laughing before walking off again.

“You are completely insane.” Clayton shook his head as he sat under the nearest Tumtum tree, he couldn’t help the small smile tugging at the corner of his lips upon hearing that laugh. 

“Insane is sane if one’s being of sane has only been known as the concept of insane,” Chess stated nonsensically as they sat next to Clayton, shoulder to shoulder.

Shoulder to shoulder. . . they used to sit like this when they were children. When Chess would run through the halls of the castle with Clayton pretending they were hunting the Bandersnatch. When they were yelled at by his mother for trudging mud through the throne room after talking with the flowers out in the garden. When Chess would pretend to be the Fool helping a Knight, Clayton, on a quest. When they’d travel to the SeaTears and watch the Oysters dance. When they’d listen to the Dodo speak and they’d laugh and laugh. When they would fall asleep on each other's shoulders. He was snapped back to the present when a weight hit his shoulder. 

Chess’ head rested against his shoulder and almost inaudibly whispered “Besides, your something to be insane about.” their voice sounded small, reminding Clayton of how they used to speak.

Clayton felt heat rise in his face and he turned his head. Silently sitting for maybe an hour, maybe more maybe less (time is but also isn’t a thing) they sat enjoying each other's company, Clayton’s heart would skip a beat every so often when Chess readjusted. Watching borogoves fly overhead. Listening to the distant screeches of Jubjub birds. “I miss this.” Chess whispered and Clayton hummed in agreement. They then talked of simpler times. Talked of the past in mocking tones to hide the sorrow of adventures once had together, and of the future and what it may hold for the both of them. 

“I _want_ to be King,” Clayton sorrowed as he watched the two moons shift colors in the changing day. “I want to be a _good_ King, one that my people will praise, but also one that my council will respect.” Clayton turned to look at Chess who was now staring at him with squinted eyes, not being able to see that well up close, made him smile softly.

“I want to be a King that even _you_ would kneel too,” Clayton whispered.

“Well, My Red Prince~, that is a very unrealistic want you have.” Chess shut their eyes tightly and reopened them, eye colors changing “You see, I _know_ you will be a great King, I _know_ you will be praised and respected,” They leaned in closer and closer until they were an inch away from Clayton’s face. Clayton felt his chest tighten, his gaze drifted from their bright blue winged eyeliner and magenta smoky eyes to their natural-pink colored lips. “But as far as getting me to _kneel_?” Chess chuckled leaning back against the Tumtum. Clayton released a breath he didn’t know he was holding, something twisted inside him. 

“I only ever bow,” Chess stated before turning to look back to Clayton. “And even that is mockingly.” 

“Do you fool me?” 

“Pardon?”

“Am I a joke for your amusement?” His words were bitter but his face was stone.

“Why would-”

“You say you _know_ I would be a great King, yet you wouldn’t kneel to me.” Clayton stood his back to Chess. Chess who was still slightly leaning against him had to place a hand on the ground to keep balance. “I’m trying to help you, Chess. But you won’t accept it!” He turned to face his friend who he hardly recognized anymore. 

Clayton remembers when Chess showed up for the first time in three years after they left with their Father. Thirteen and the look of solemn mischief lingering in their eyes, not the wonderment filled mischief. He remembers the day he lost his childhood friend and gained a troublesome acquaintance in their place. He hated it. He hated how everyone knew them as this ‘Jack of All Trades’. That they were now a person who people say should never be trusted and that they only cared for themselves. Which wasn’t the case. Clayton knew them as a person of great moral standards. As a caring being who always puts others before themself in times of need. Not as someone who could swindle you of your belongings and get their way out of trouble.

He felt his anger growing “Either you really aren’t going to accept my help or your so _dense_ you don’t realize I’m trying to give you a way to- to _not_ miss this anymore.” His anger began to become wet. His voice cracked. Chess took a tentative step towards him. “I’m trying to give myself a way to stop missing you.” he choked. 

“Clay-”

“I hated that you left, I hated that you left and I stayed here, I realize now that it wasn't because I missed someone to play with. That it was not having someone always by me. Having you always by me. Sanity Chess!”

Chess stood still staring at Clayton. Not moving, not speaking. 

“I- Your wanted in all four kingdoms. You will one day be caught, one day Chess, and I’m afraid you won’t be able to _slip_ or _shrink_ or- or whatever the hell it is you do! I can’t lose you.” Clayton took a deep breath and closed his eyes. “When I open my eyes, you won’t be standing there,” He listened for any noise, any movement, anything from the other. “I know you know how to get past the borders even when they’re closed. You will leave this Kingdom, you will not return until I am King. Until then, Chess, do _not_ return here. This is the help I am offering.” After a minute he opened his eyes. The clearing was empty. He was alone. He felt his face lose all emotion as all washed to his chest. “Fuck!” 

*******

Chess slipped away as quiet as a Dormouse. They had hidden behind a Tumtum listening to the rest of what Clayton had to say. Their chest felt tight, their head was racing, tears began to sting their eyes. 

“Fuck!” Clayton outburst made them jump. When they looked back into the clearing Clayton was walking away. 

_“I hate that you left”_ _Having you always with me”_ _“I can’t lose you.”_

He didn’t mean what Chess thought he meant, could he? No, thats not possible, Chess was- was well, Chess! Chess was Chess and Clayton was- was a prince, a bloody _prince_ . A prince who wanted to see them safe, who worried about them, who wanted them by his side possibly forev- No! Chess smacked themselves. They couldn’t have heard him right. “Chess you absolute _pansy_! There’s no way he meant it like that! It's impossible.” 

_“I hate that you left”_ the trees swayed in the breeze, there was no breeze. 

_“Having you always beside me”_ Clayton whispered into their ear, Clayton was walking back towards the castle.

“ _I can’t lose you.”_ something brushed their cheek, nothing touched them.

 _“Chess you absolute pansy!”_

“Cheshire knock it off!” Chess stopped, biting towards the sky. An almost malicious snicker filled the air as the grin of that damned cat appeared. “Quite your mindless games.” 

_“But they aren’t mindless, are they.”_ Cheshire mewled as she fully appeared. Tall and slender, her hair was short and straight ending just at her chin. Her ears ended in tufts and layed against her head as her tail was pressed against her chest, her claws combing it's fur while she pretended to pout. Her skin was the color of slate with darker gray markings dancing on her skin much like a gray maine coon. 

Eyes a rich blue where dilated to slits and a grin plastered her face, white fangs shined back at chess as she giggled to herself. faintly purring, she encircled Chess. _“It’s impossible~”_ she whined into their ear. 

“Why are you here, ‘Shire?” Chess began walking. “Shouldn’t you be in the Boardlands frightening the Dor-folk or whatever blasted thing you enjoy, _Mangy_?” 

_“I was sent here to retrieve you, you father wishes you home,”_ She hissed. _“Trying to give myself a way-”_

"Why do you mock me so, Cheshire?" Chess ignored her comment about their father, she disappeared and reappeared across Chess’ shoulders. “What did I ever do to you?"

 _“. . . You left”_ she set to fixing, pushing up and grooming the fur that covered her bust, tail swaying lazily, truly pouting this time. 

Chess hummed. Clayton’s words ran in their head. Cheshire purred on their shoulders. Going back for a little bit couldn’t hurt. “Alright, lets go.”

_“Hurmm?”_

“To the Boardlands,” Chess sighed. “Home.” 


	2. Chapter 2

The Boardlands, once an uninhabited forest of beasts and creatures littered with giant monuments of black or white (some towering above the canopies and some deep beneath the undergrowth). Now a place with the outcasts of every Kingdom, of the families of folk abandoned, of the _Hatters_. Using the cover of hat making (high-quality as they are) for smuggling and other criminal behavior, the Hatters’ use the Boardlands’ whimsy to their advantage. When patrols from the bordering Kingdoms come a little too close to the ‘Bizarre Bazaar’ within an instant they’re gone; once here, never there, but always somewhere.

Chess doesn’t have anything against the forest itself, they love the obscurity of it all; No what he has a problem with is their Father. After Mother’s death their Father was found to be the infamous ‘Mad hatter’ the Kingdom of Spades was searching for and Chess was forced to flee the Kingdom of Hearts with him, leaving all that Chess loved behind. Training mainly through the necessity of not being caught caused them to fall into the lifestyle of their father and others like him. The only thing that made the Boardlands home was that it was the only place they didn’t have to worry about authorities arresting them, and its been almost six years since they last were in the same room as their Father. 

Letting their feet guide them, not wanting to rush to a reunion of Father and child; they watched as Cheshire appeared and disappeared from forest ground to tree branch, to white monument, to boulder, to their side. Finally after appearing on the top of a Black monument she smiled as she purred. _“Welcome home, Jack~”_

Chess was not ready for this, the ‘Jack of All Trades’ was a title given to them after an escape they pulled when they took the fall for something that was unintentionally their fault. It’s a constant dagger in their side and having the Hatters use it as an endearment, as almost a wright of passage, just twisted it even more. They were not ready for this. They were never ready for most things. 

With a sigh they placed a hand on the Black monument and pushed, a secret door opened up and they stepped in. Black and white checkered floors in an empty circular room with multiple different doors of shapes, sizes, and colors line the wall; a small glass table sits in the middle, a bottle of ‘Drink Me’ sits the pinkish purple liquid shifting between hues. Sanity, this was new. Seems the Patrols may have found them once before. 

“ ‘Shire what am I-” Turning around there was only a closed red door that came only to their hip, no cat to be seen. “Bloody cat.” They walked towards the table. The room grew in size until all doors were towering over them. Looking around they almost missed it. There! Smaller than his thumb, no bigger than a Dor-Folk was a plain brown and weathered door blending into the floor border. Holding their nose they downed the ‘Drink Me’ before placing the, now full, bottle back on the table. As they approached the door it grew and grew until they were looking up at the doorknob, a jump away. “Oh you’ve got to be-” grabbing onto the doorknob on the first jump they held onto it with their thighs twisting themselves backwards until the lock was right-side up, like a snake. Luckily it was a normal doorknob and not one of the talking ones, they really hated those ‘self-aware’ doorknobs and didn’t feel like having it complain. Flexibility was a lucky trait they had and they were glad for it, as they pulled the sewing needles from the lapel of their coat they began to work, already feeling the strain in their thighs. “Come on, you bloody, fuck!” three needles used before finally, the door unlocked. 

As the door opened they dropped, rubbing their thigh. They really weren’t ready for this. “Stupid Hatters.” 

*******

“Clayton, where were you?” He heard his mother ask as he tried, and failed, to sneak past the Throne room. He really didn’t need this right now. “I didn’t see you a Tea today.”

“Mother, what are you going to do if you find Chess?” his voice was soft, he thought for a moment she didn’t hear him. 

“ _When_ I find ‘the Jack’, He will be placed on trial and found guilty of the crimes he has committed. Just like any other Hatter.” Turning to her heir she sighed at his downcast face. “Clayton please, I know you have respect for the boy but know he made his choice to follow in his father’s path. I too still have some semblance of respect, don’t forget I was fond of the boy too.” Her eyes softened, Clayton knew she was actually talking about their Mother not them themselves. “But as a ruler there are things that must be done. Do you understand?” She straightened, Clayton nodded. “Good, I need you to visit the Duchess. She may have useful information.” Turning back to the map she was reviewing Clayton knew he was dismissed and heard her mumble. “Now, he was last spotted-.” 

“I don’t think you’ll have to worry about _them_ anymore, Mother.” Clayton left before she could respond.

*******

The ‘Bizarre Bazaar’, purple smoke lay thick on the ground curling up in wisps wherever one walked. Blue tinted haze lingered in the air, the smell of salts and sweet florals carried through it. Fabric obscured the rafters and caused multicolored light where lanterns shone from the ceiling. Stalls of all sizes sold wears and trinkets on every-side, swindles left and right. Packed and overflowing. The Tweedle-Brothers shared a stall, one brother argued with a customer (no doubt trying to get their things back) as the other yelled at passing individuals, Chess avoided them. Dor-Folk scurried in between feet, held onto individuals before letting go where they needed to, or ran along the rafters. The all too familiar shapes of the Caterpillar’s purple smoke filled the air the closer they got to the residential areas. They could feel staring as they passed all the other stalls and tried to ignore when whispers of _his return_ began spreading. Chess was almost completely passed the Caterpillar when a string of thick, sickly floral smoke tangled itself around their neck.

“ _Who are you?_ ” The Caterpillar’s deep voice resonated through their chest. “ _To try and walk past without so much as a Hello, Jack?_ ” The smoke pulled gently on their neck, urging them towards the Caterpillar. Chess bit the inside of their cheek and turned to the Caterpillar. He sat on his large mushroom, his bottom almost falling off, the smoke from his hookah spilling out and covering the floor. Books piled the nearest mushroom, and smaller mushrooms (used in the creation of the ‘Drink Me’ and ‘Eat Me’) surrounded him. 

“. . . Hello.”

“ _Humph!_ ”

“I-it's been some time, Sir. It's um-”

“ _Don’t hurt yourself Jack._ ” The Caterpillar sounded unamused, his smoke dissipated from their neck and pointed in the direction forward. “ _Your Father is waiting for you in the ‘Hat Shop’, I wouldn’t keep him waiting any longer than you have._ ”

“Yes Sir.” Chess looked to the ground, their shoulders hunched at the name used. They left without another word. They now felt thoroughly embarrassed, though that would have happened with any conversation with the Caterpillar, also the reality for their reunion settled uneasily in their gut. They were really about to see their Father again.

*******

Clayton stood in front of the Duchess’ estate. She always made not a lick of sense and as someone who is used to Chess. . . That's a feat, but that's probably why he liked her so much. He knocked on the door and it was opened instantly. As the maid opened the door both ducked as a pot flew past their heads. “Good morning your highness,” She stepped aside with a small curtsy. “Please come in.” 

“Cooking again I see.” He couldn’t help as he leaned forward chasing the scent of mouth watering confectioneries. If there was one thing the Duchess was known for it was her baking. She was once the head baker for the castle. 

“She knew you were coming and wanted to make sure you had plent-” the maid was cut off as the clattering of kitchenware was followed by a cacophonous roar.

“No! You messed it all up, now what will the Prince eat you dumb thing!” Ah, yes the Duchess. . . voice as nasally as he remembered. When the maid and Clayton peered into the kitchen she was arguing with. . . herself, as usual. She was staring at her reflection in the pot closest to her feet, one hand on her hip the other pointing accusingly at her reflection, her apron was covered in flour. The kitchen was in complete disarray; pots and pans scattered about, puddles of liquid covered the floors, walls, and dripped from the ceiling. “Now there's a mess and no sweets, the poor thing will have nothing! Nothing at all!” She stared at the tarts, the cupcakes, and cookies all done and ready for consumption. All his favorite sweets, he also noticed black licorice (his all time favorite). “Well, time to start over,” With a sigh she grabbed the cupcakes and began to walk to the compost. 

“No!” Clayton walked out into the opening, stopping the Duchess. “No, I am very sure there is not nothing for me to eat,” He looked from the cupcakes to the tarts. “Besides. . . I _am_ hungry.” He smiled. His ruby medusa piercing sparkled in the kitchen's lighting. 

“The Sweets I’ve prepared will be enough?” 

“More than!”

“Very well.” With a huff she handed the tray of cupcakes to Clayton and began helping the maid clean. Knowing neither would allow him to help he began eating the sweets handed to him. Tart lemon icing and sweet raspberry cake filled his taste. A sound of satisfaction slipped past his lips. “To your liking's? That's good.” a tall glass of yellow green gradated liquid was handed to him, he accepted it with a nod and a thank you. He tried another cupcake, blueberry. 

“What pleasure does the prince grace us with his presence?” Ah, the reason he was here.

Putting the tray on the now clean kitchen top, he sighed. “Mother- the Queen believes you have information on the possible whereabouts of the ‘Jack of All Trades’ though I doubt they're in the kingdom anymore.”

“I do.”

“What?”

“Possible whereabouts,” the Duchess wiped her fingers off on her apron, not looking at Clayton. “Chess went back to the Boardlands.” 

“What?”

Clayton let his forehead rest against his door, the palm of his hand pressed against it. “Dammit.” He knew his words might have been harsh but so many emotions built through the years made them so. He never thought his words would make them go back _there_. The Duchess’ maid, affectionately named “Maiden”, had informed her that she saw them with the damned cat headed in the direction of the Boardlands. A Dor-folk ‘friend’ of the Duchess' confirmed they were seen in the ‘Bizarre Bazaar’. 

“At least they're somewhat safer,” He closed his eyes tight. “I hope.” 

He went to bed not expecting any sleep. Let alone dreams.

~~~

_Standing in the courtyard his pants rolled to his knees, his white undershirt loose and rolled to his elbows, Clayton stood barefoot in the mud from the recent downpour. He was squishing the cool mud between his toes when from behind him- “Clayton!” He turned to see Chess, ten- years-old and smiling bright-eyed. Missing a tooth and holding a stooled-toad almost the entire size of his chest proudly. “It's Huge!”_

_“Chess that's disgusting,” Clayton recoiled as his friend brought it closer, the bright red toad croaked at him it's white humps covered in mud. “How can you hold that thing! It's almost as big as you!”_

_“I think it's cute! Don’t you?”_

_“I really don’t.”_

_Chess pouted letting the toad go. Clayton watched to make sure it hopped as far away as possible. “You’ll do anything but touch a stooled-toad,” Chess stepped closer to him. Turning to his friend, Clayton stepped back at the sudden closeness. “Is it because your scared?” He asked smugly._

_“No, it's because I don't want warts.” He pushed his friend over, as his friend hit the ground with an ‘gah’ he ran past him. Chess chased after him and both boys laughed._

_“You’re not going to get warts from a stooled-toad, oof!” Chess fell over landing in the mud with a splash. “Besides you already have one.” He grabbed Clayton’s leg and pulled him down. They wrestled before Clayton rolled on top of Chess._

_“It's a mole you bletherskate!” Clayton seethed pinning him to the ground. “Not a wart!” He started tickling Chess who burst into tearful fits of laughter. Chess grabbed a handful of mud with his free hand and threw it at Claytons face, not wanting to be hit with the mud Clayton stopped his assault of tickling and protected his face. Chess took the chance to knock him over and pin him to the ground._

_“You remind me of a stooled-toad," As Clayton's face turned to anger Chess struggled to keep him down. “Because I think you're cute, too!”_

_“What?!” Clayton felt heat rise in his face as he stopped struggling._

_“Your face scrunches when your disgusted, and you sneeze like a ‘Shire does.” Chess’ eyes change and he seems unaware of how his comment made Clayton red in the face. “Meaning you’re cute!”_

_Clayton was standing on his balcony, bored. Movement caught his eye. A top hat, a Hatter! Climbing down the side of the castle (something his mother would freak about) he slowly followed the figure. He almost lost sight of them a few times but it seems that either the figure isn’t worried about being followed or knows and wants to be followed because as soon as he fears he’s actually lost sight of them, they appear. Chasing them, the figure stops in a clearing in the Tumtums._

_“Stop!” Clayton drew his saber. “Who are you and why are you here?” His voice is demanding yet full of curiosity._

_“I am who I have always been and will ever be,” They sounded familiar. “As for what I’m doing here? Well,” the figure turned and bowed dramatically. Top hat to his chest, eyes full of mischief and a damning smirk on his face, Chess finished speaking. “I’m paying my respects to the freshly crowned Heir of Hearts.” Placing his top hat back on his head he dragged his pointer finger and thumb over the brim and jutted out his chin. “Congratulations, Red Prince.”_

_“Chess?” Clayton lowered his saber, disbelief written on his face. As he looked his childhood friend over Chess threw his arms out and gave a spin for Clayton’s viewing pleasure before leaning forward and showing the wonders of his eyes. “Sanity! Chess!” Clayton’s face broke into a smile so wide his face hurt as he walked to his friend. He pulled Chess into a hug and squeezed. His best friend was here, he was here and he came to visit him._

_“Red Prince,” Chess breathed, tapping Clayton's shoulder rapidly. “I can't breathe.”_

_“It's so good to see you,” Clayton squeezed his shoulder, not wanting to let go because if he did who was to say Chess wouldn’t just disappear in front of him. “What is this I hear about you being the ‘Jack of All Trades’?”_

_Chess winced and breathed through his teeth. “So you heard about that? It was a moniker I gained from a daring escape I did about a week a month back.” Chess removed Clayton’s hand from his shoulder. “Because of that I’m now officially a Hatter.” He sighed._

_“I see.” Clayton didn’t know he sounded disappointed but from the way Chess looked up at him he must have._

_“I didn’t have a choice, Clayton.”_

_“I’m sure.”_

_“I really did just come to say congratulations, the medusa looks fitting. Like a sparkling wart.” Chess chuckled._

_“A bletherskite still, I see.” Clayton touched the piercing on his upper lip. “But I’m glad that didn’t change. I still can’t get over the fact that people think your infamous! ‘Oh he's so-”_

_“They.” Chess cut Clayton off from his attempt at a mockery of a maids conversation he overheard._

_“Pardon?”_

_Chess took a step back looking to the ground, his face red. Rubbing his arm he looked back up to Clayton, uncertainty in his eyes as he spoke shaky words. “A-actually it's- It's uh, they. I- i uh,” Chess chuckled awkwardly looking back at the grass. “I’m not a he nor am I a she, I- I’m simply- simply me.”_

_“Oh,” Clayton took a deep breath processing the information. “Okay. My mistake.” clearing his throat he started again. “ ‘Oh they're so scary’, like who can look at you and think you” He gestured to all of Chess “ are in the slightest bit scary.”_

_Shock covered Chess’ face, when Clayton asked if they were alright and moved closer to them they had tears forming in their eyes. “You’re the first person I’ve ever told that.” their voice wavered. “You’re the first person.”_

_Clayton stood in the clearing, in the winding forest of tumtum trees, his eyes full of the sorrow he felt. The two moons in the morning sky watched him. Borogoves flew overhead. Jubjub birds screeched in the distance. Something twisted inside him. He hated the feeling and wanted it to go away. Suddenly the urge to turn around made him look behind. Chess stood still staring at Clayton. Not moving, not speaking. Oh, Sanity! The feeling grew. He opened his mouth to speak and-_

_“I know you know how to get past the borders even when they’re closed.” No. “ You will leave this Kingdom, you will not return until I am King.” Please, no. “ Until then, Chess, do not return here.” Please stay. “ This is the help I am offering.” Don’t go. Tears pricked his eyes and he closed them. Dammit! Don’t Go, I shouldn’t have said that, I’m a fool. I miss you. Fuck, please stay._

_Something lightly brushed his lips, warm and soft. A warmth cupped his cheek. The softness pressed a little before leaving, he chased the warmth. He opened his eyes and-_

~~~

“Well that was bloody rude.” He threw his arm over his eyes shielding them from the sunlight filtering through his bedroom windows. He brought his finger to his lips, lightly touching them. He swore he could still feel warmth not his own. “Bloody rude indeed.” 

Chess was panicky as they looked at the doors in front of them, They didn’t _have_ to do this, they had a six year streak after all. The sign above it read ‘ _Hat Shop_ ’... But the Dor-flok have probably already stread tale of _his return_.

Just beyond these doors six years of aloofness will fade. “Better to do this now than never.” As they opened the door the only individual, a Hare-folk of unkempt black and white fur, didn’t even look up from the thickly packed tome he was reading from. “Actually better _never_ than _now_.” They groaned walking into the store proper. 

“how migh’ I ‘elp ye?” The Hare-Folk was missing one of his front teeth, never looking up.

“I need to speak to the ‘Mad Hatter’.”

The ears twitched slightly. “ donno who-”

“The ‘Jack of All Trades’ needs to speak to the ‘Mad Hatter’, _Please_.” Chess hissed.

The Hare-Folk shot up staring at Chess in bewilderment. His eyes grew wider before rushing off. He returned with Mousy, a tan furred Dor-Folk, who beamed brightly as she saw Chess. “Chess Bloody Hatcher!” she walked to them and they scooped her up bringing her close to their face. “It has been such a long time my boy. It is so good to see you.” Chess’ heart dropped slightly but made sure a smile stayed plastered on their face. Mousy was the one who helped take care of them when they were younger (scared and confused at their sudden movement to the Boardlands). “Well, come come! You father will be so pleased.” As she finished the sentence her words got less and less sincere. As Chess walked into the backroom, Mousy held their thumb and began giving instruction on how to access the real ‘Hat Shop’ and a comfortable silence fell over them. 

“I’m-” Chess began to speak but shut their mouth just as quickly.

“Chess?”

Sighing they stopped walking, Mousy turned quizzically to Chess. Closing their eyes they spoke before they could think better of it. “ I’m not a boy.” 

“Oh?”

“I-I’m just- I’m just me.” Mousy was quiet, Chess felt a knot form in their chest. “I- I just wanted you- wanted you to know that. I found out about two or three years ago, so.” 

“Chess, Thank you for telling me,” They felt tiny hands squeeze their thumb. “The last thing I would want to do is make you feel invalid.” 

“Thanks,” They took a deep breath in and held it. “At least someone here knows and this _reunion_ will go… as shitty as I expect it, maybe worse.”

*******

They didn't need to look to know people stopped what they were doing to gawk at them as they made their way towards the back of the room, Mousy was now standing on their shoulder both of her tiny pawed hands gripping their collar. As they approached the back wall Chess saw a man dealing cards of all shapes, sizes, and color variants. 

His hands dealt the cards with a deftness, finger nails yellowed from lacquers and dyes, nails in desperate need of maintenance. The black lace glovelettes made his hands paler than they truly were. Amber eyes outlined by the wine red smoky eye never taken off the other player. The yellowed-with-age virgil shirt hung loosely around his collarbone as the first three buttons had been undone, it must have been the final drawl. 

A brown mad hatter hat with an olive colored bond (quail feathers and the eye of a peacock feather stuck out) sat on the table next to him. His finger traced lazy circles on it's top as the other player dealt his hands. “Hearts!” he placed his bet, a crystalline knight chess piece, and laid his cards. He smiled moving his hand from his lazy circling to touch his lip thoughtfully, on lookers groaned at the bet. 

“Forgive and forget my dear friend!” Their father’s voice was loud and demanded attention with every word as he made a dismissing motion with his hand. “Spades.” he placed his bet, a black marble Bishop chess piece, his tone cool as murmurs followed his lay of cards. 

“Your father is playing for rights of land.” Mousy whispered. “If he wins,” she craned her head to see better. “Well have more for crops, _proper_ crops.” Her voice sounded hopeful. There was always a fight for proper crop growing land not marred by the borderlands twisted aura. And they were the floating lands above. They nodded in understanding. Floating Lands was one of the only places uninhabited, although there are ways of getting to them, fresh soil rich with nutrients, a gold mine waiting to be taken but never touched due to… reasons. 

Silence took over the table and onlookers before the March Hare twitching and giggling to himself sporadically ran around the table. Diving underneath and popping back up next to the Mad Hatter. His giggling became more and more copious before shouting madly. “Face!”

Quickly both players flipped their cards. Rupture of noise instantly took place. The Mad Hatter broke into a grin not far off from Chess’, His front two gaped. He won, Ace of Spades and Queen of hearts lay top two. The other player hissed, queen of clubs and a Joker lay top two. Swiping the others betting chip he flaunted, “don't worry dear friend I'll be sure you get a share of the harvests!” 

“ ‘atter, we’re gonna ‘ave issues, Issa tell it.” the man stuck a crooked finger in his face before he and his own began to file out. 

Chess watched the man and his crew leave, listening into the conversations of their fathers men, cringing internally when they heard “The Jack!” be yelled and silence fell once more.

“Well, no wonder I won,” The hatter stood buttoning his shirt once more, hat already on his head. “There was a lucky charm in my mits.” as he strode over to his child he threw on his patch work tailcoat. The black fall front trousers made his legs seem long and spindly. The black boot clack against the worn tile flooring, he flung an arm around Chess, pulling them into his side, before exuberantly extending his other arm and proclaiming. “Everyone, My son has returned!” Cheers erupted as the Mad Hatter began pulling Chess into the back room hidden from view by a red thick velvet curtain. 

“You could not have been better timed, my boy!” His father released Chess by the doorway before continuing into the heavily crowded room, his voice distant and muffled as he continued on. Appearing from behind a pile of hazardously stacked books he continued. “You’ve grown well!” Dirt blonde locks fell around his face and he blew one away. “Six years,” their father delighted. “Six years and you look- you look… ever so much like your mother.” their father quieted as he cupped Chess’ cheek before pulling away and walking to the desk hidden under papers. “Now! With your return we can finally begin the task of _révolution_!” His father stepped onto the desk and kicked the nearest stack of papers, a dramatized laugh leaving his lips. 

“Papa,” Chess hesitated then continued. “I’m, I’m not staying… Just passing through.” His father’s shoulders drooped as he turned to Chess, a look of falsities and dashed dreams made Chess wince. 

“Your,” His father dropped from the desk “Again? So soon,” Chess has never seen their father so torn… then again they haven't seen their father in _six years_ . “But you’ve just-” Their father removed his hat and held it to his chest with both hands thumbing the sides thoughtfully before sighing. “I understand, you want no part in what we’re- what _i’m_ doing, and thats- thats fair.” he placed his hat on a precariously seated table. “But know this… I’m doing this for you. Son-”

“No.”

“No? What do you mean no?”

“I’m not your son,” Chess shook. “I’m not you son, or your daughter, I’m just- I’m just your child. _I’m just me_.” 

“Just you,” His father looked them up and down and sighed. “I don't even know who you are Chess. I haven't seen you _in six years_ .” A look of disappointment was quickly replaced by a look of calm. “Doesn't matter your still my kin and it doesn't change that i'm doing this for you- for you _and_ your mother.” He walked passed a stunned Chess and began rifling through papers. “Your mother wanted you to live happily, _I_ want you to live happily, and if thats not here, so be it. If it's in a Tea pot or in a House, so be it,” their father kept rifling through papers “But know I’ve tried my damnedest to make a place where you can be happy.” He turned around with an ‘ah ha!’ and stopped in his tracks. “What? Whats wrong?” he moved over to Chess and whipped a tear away. 

“You-” They hiccuped. “Your okay, with- with me?”

“Why wouldn’t- you thought I really wasn’t going to be okay with you being you?” Their father sounded worried. “Chess, my little crumb, you really have forgotten me haven't you?” he chuckled awkwardly and pulled his child to him. “I may be the Mad Hatter but much like you and being the ‘Jack of all Trades’ that is but a title, a falsity known and upheld by the others.” 


	3. Chapter 3

The next three years Clayton spent in the same state of mind he had been in before finding out Chess was in his mother's Kingdom, though their visit was brief and ended with Clayton cursing himself; worried beyond what was reasonable. 

Every turn he thought about the turns Chess must be taking, were they staying hidden or were they out in the open? Every meal he wondered if Chess was eating, was it enough to nourish them? Every night he wondered if they were getting enough sleep, did they have a bed or were they using that rickety old cott they had? 

Clayton was worried for Chess, worried for his friend- his best friend that he might have just messed everything up with (because he's an absolute Block!). He  _ was _ worried for a whole month before… Before he heard the news. He only  _ heard _ it because he overheard it during one of his mother's screaming fits,  _ her _ mother's rage seeping through with every word. It was early (just after breakfast), the king was skittish, no servant was near, and Clayton stayed out of sight and listened. 

“-fuse to accept this!” She bellowed, face red. “They dare declare such a thing! The BoardLands are neutral lands and are owned by none! The Hatters have gotten out of control, and declaring such a thing so close to the Wright of Heritage. Fools the lot of them!” 

The king huttling into himself squeaked “Two of the other kingdoms, with the third being swayed, have agreed to at least hear them dear-”

“I do not give a Banderstach’s claw what the other Kingdoms reigning chipped teacups think!” She huffed after her initial outburst at the King and continued steely. “This has nothing to do with hearing them, this has only to do with their intentions. Do either the Mad Hatter or the Jack of all Trades know how to rule a kingdom,  _ a people _ ? I think not. I do not like the Mad Hatter and although I  _ am _ fond of the boy but I am not agreeing because they are proposing the birth of a new kingdom with them as ruler and heir, I’m not agreeing because when their Kingdom- if ever created- finally falls, which it will, all those people will have nowhere to return to.” 

“Well, dear… the  _ people _ of the proposed kingdom will be those already there and their fam-”

Clayton began to tune out the world around him, what was his mother implying? That the Mad Hatter, Mont Hatcher, somehow convince Chess to work with him? Had he accepted who Chess was and gotten them to work with him that way? Or did his words send Chess spiraling more than he did to himself… to such a point of helping their father? 

“Clayton, dear,” His mother's voice brought him out of his own mind, preventing him from spiraling downwards farther. “It is very rude for one to eavesdrop,” she extended a hand towards him, her face still red but her voice trying for calm. Walking towards her he took her hand a sheepish smile on his face, worry still laced throughout. “Unless one can properly hide, that is. Letting a foot be visible from the doorway isn’t very well hidden, my little ruby. I’ve taught you better.” She playfully booped his nose and he chuckled. 

“Luckily for me I wasn’t trying to be hidden,” He squeezed her hand before sitting next to her feet looking up at her, something he used to do when he was a child and wanted explanations with no sugar coating or white lies. His fingers absentmindedly played with the edges of her gown. 

Taking her que she sighed and her shoulders drooped “Mont Hatcher known as the Mad Hatter along with his son Chess Hatcher and fifty other higher leveled Hatters,” She carded her fingers through his hair before continuing. “Have declared they want the BoardLands to be recognised as a Kingdom- their Kingdom, they even have a name already,  _ Kingdom of Boards _ .” she said the proposed name as a mockery. “With Mont being King and the boy being Prince.”

“Were those the exact words?”

“Pardon?”

“Chess being Prince, were those the exact words?”

The king took this chance to chirp up rather proudly of himself, “It only called him an Heir, it said ‘Mont shall be King and his child will be Heir’ those were the exact words i do believe.” he then mumbled about reading the declaration again to clarify.

Clayton clicked his tongue before standing, his own anger bubbling but he didn’t know fully why. He should be happy that Chess was accepted by their father, otherwise he knew the wordage would have said “son” and “prince”. But he can’t help but feel angry, maybe at himself for even sending Chess away in the first place. 

“My little ruby, what troubles you?” his mother found his sudden change to anger uncharacteristic of her son. “Is there something you know about this that we do not? Because if so, keep it not with yourself.” the King only nodded in agreement. “I know you and the Hatcher boy were close, if this has anything to do with hi-” 

“Do not worry mother,” Clayton stopped her with a reassuring hand. “If it was something pressing I would have said something already. If you excuse me I promised the garden roses I would listen to their song today.” with a quick bow he left. Perhaps the garden would do him some good, the roses were self centered but could be very good advice givers, he just hopes he doesn't run into any stooled-toads. 

*******

“Isn’t this excellent!” Mont exclaimed with childish wonder as he held two letters in one hand and read a third from his other talking to the hoard of papers and books surrounding him. “Two kingdoms have agreed to hear us and,” he finished reading the third “and the third has decided to give it some thought- which isn’t a yes, but it sure as sanity's sake isn’t a no! Ha ha!” He was filled with such joy. First his son-  _ child _ \- his child returns and then two kingdoms almost instantly agree to hearing him and his people out. 

Putting the letters away delicately, he took out his pocket watch and opened it, the picture of his wife and the very love of his love greeted him. Her smile soft and warm, her eyes welcoming with an invitation of home and safety. “Irene, oh lovely lovely Irene, my dear,” He thumbed the picture tenderly. “ Wherever you may be I hope you see what has begun to happen and can forgive the bads I have done. One day Chess will-” he sat on the corner of his desk and looked out at the room of papers and books and oddities. “Hopefully Chess will see I never forgot about, or never stopped loving- loving  _ them _ .” He then looked down to the picture in his hand and smiled widely. “Oh, right! Our little crumb has grown so much my dear, Chess isn’t our son or daughter  _ they _ are simply our child, he- they for some reason thought I was going to not accept this because I was pretty sure they were going to make my office the next SeaTears! I will admit I still have moments where I say the wrong thing but I’m getting better. It's not even that I’m not used to it; it's just the last time I saw Chess, they were our  _ little boy _ and if they're not that anymore and have begun to figure out who they are then that means they’ve grown up- grown up and I didn’t see- but! That just means they’re our  _ little crumb _ even more than before!” 

Mont talked to his wife’s visage more and more, unaware that the very topic he was speaking of moments ago listened in the doorway with faint tears lining their eyes and a warm feeling in their chest; ‘Shire sat nearby swinging her feet, her grin never leaving her face. The tweedle-brothers whispered to themselves arguing about something they stole and who it belonged to now, a figure wearing black armor with red embellishments watched bemusedly. Mousy sat on Chess’ shoulder and patted their cheek.

Chess left their father to talk to their mother in peace as their entourage slowly followed behind. Within the three years of Clayton ‘banishing’ them from the Kingdom of Hearts they have wondered how he was relentlessly. How was his sword fighting, was it still horrendous or had he improved? Was he still grossed by stooled-toads and other little critters, or had he gotten over it? Did he still need someone to share the bed when it was heavily storming, or had he overcome his fear of thunder? They missed their friend, their best friend, their lo- no, they can’t afford to think of such thoughts, they have only ever caused trouble for him and it's better if they settle with what they have… what they had. Does the red prince still care for them, will he uphold his ‘help’ or have these three years drawing closer to the Wright of Heritage hardened him? 

“ _ Jack~ _ ” ‘Shire whined, pulling them from their spiral downwards. “ _ You walk too fast when your thinking! _ ” she quickened her pace to fall in sync with them. “ _ Wait until you’re sitting to think! _ ” she cooed.

“I do my best thinking on my feet.” Chess stated watching her trying to get jam out of her bust fur. 

Elenore Knight, Princess of Spades (and heir to the Spades throne) found herself in a peculiar situation. One she will never tell her mother of- then again she never tells her mother a lot of things. She was… lost. Although if you were to ask her she was exactly where she was meant to be… just at the wrong time. 

Sitting in her white saddle she shifted as she tried using her memory of the lands to find where she was. Her horse nickered impatiently at her, throwing his head and hooving the ground. Pure white mane and tail both exceptionally long with a matching shining coat- he was, without a doubt her prized possession, and best friend; but  _ sanity _ he could be obnoxious. 

“I am well aware that it is the same tree as an hour ago,” She stood in her stirrups, annoyance in her words. “Deck, your no help in this situation.” She dismounted with a clank of her armour, she groaned. “I really didn’t expect to get lost. If I had, I would have packed another set of clothes.” her shining white armor caught the few beams of sunlight from the trees with hints of silver embellishments, her second most prized possession. He wore matching armaments (including a rather long opal like twisted horn) to her own, nudging her with his nose he huffed. “No,” she dodged the horn. “You can’t take it off- yours takes longer to put on and you  _ refuse _ to put it on once it's off.” 

“Well~” the breathy word was playful, in a taunting way- she knew that playfulness. “If it isn’t  _ Sir _ Elenore of Spades~”

“ _ Sir _ Cordelia of Boards,” she turned her nose up at the girl who appeared. Leaning against a nearby tree, helmet tucked under one arm (black with a red plumed top), a smirk on her face, lazily looking at her reflection in her sword (black metal). “I thought I smelt something  _ Woe _ -ful.”

Cordelia lifted her head with an astonished look- eyes of charcoal gleamed, heavy black eye makeup smeared but still going strong outlined them. Her black hair was braided and neatly pinned up (a few strands had fallen loose and framed her face). “Name based jokes now?” she pushed off the tree sheathed her sword and sauntered over to Elenore, slowly as she spoke “How… wonderful~” 

She looked Elenore up and down when she was mere feet away, that playful bantering smirk widened when she seemed to find what she was looking for. Elenore felt her face flush; Cordelia chuckled at her. “What are you doing in these parts of the forest, aren’t you a little far from your usual patrol?~” she teased. 

“I’ll have you know,” Elenore lifted her face to the taller defiantly ready to give her come back but fell short, she knew what Cordelia was trying to do and she… and she wasn’t- oh to Sanity with it! She was going to give her this, just this once. There was too much else going on to keep up their-  _ rivalry _ . “I’m lost okay!” she yelled a little louder than she meant to and Cordelia recoiled slightly at it. 

“I’m lost! I’ve been in this twisted forest for an hour- maybe two! I’ve passed that mocking tree at least three times! I’m hot- it's fucking sticky in this damn armor! Deck is whining at every. Little. Thing! I’m stressed because mother is over excited about that ‘Wright of Heritage’  _ bullshit _ and wants me to act like the ‘perfect heir’ she thinks I am! And there's the whole declaration the Hatters put out about making their own kingdom- and father won’t stop  _ bitching _ ! And- and- and I'm  _ bloody _ sick of it all!” she cursed and spat and big ugly tears began to swell and she paced and ran her finger through her hair and her breathing became irregular as tears finally fell and she hated it, she hated- oh, oh there were, there were arms drawing her in now. She wanted to push away, she wanted too- for the sake of rivalry. But the arms were strong and careful and- and so  _ needed _ . 

Quietly they stood. Cordelia pulling Elenore tightly to her, chin placed atop her head. She let Elenore quietly express the needed emotion she could tell she had been hiding for sometime, in some ways she could relate to what Elenore was stressed about. The upcoming ‘Wright of Heritage’ was when the Hatters- and most of the people who called the BoardLands their home- would claim independence as their own body one way or another. Her father was a brute and was hoping for some  _ fun _ . She was hoping for  _ diplomacy _ . It was also when ‘the Jack’ was supposed to make a commotion and possibly sturr the very foundation of the Royal families. Whatever Chess had planned she hoped it went with the diplomacy side of things. 

They stood like that until Elenore was only sniffling. She pushed away for Cordelia and wiped her face. “Thank you, I-” 

“The forest is an oddity,” Cordelia cut her off. “Many things that are found were lost by others, and when someone becomes lost it's because they’re supposed to find something.” she looked at Elenore with a ‘do you understand’ hidden in her charcoal eyes. Elenore’s icy blue eyes widened with understanding before she broke into a fit of giggling. “What?”

“You really are amazing, you know that Cordelia?” She smiled fighting the fits of now bubbling laughter back. Cordelia could only stare in awe and blush.

“Um- well,” She was at a loss for words. “You know, amazing is as amazing does, and all that.” she awkwardly rubbed her nose trailing off.  _ Shut up Cordelia! _ She hissed to herself. Taking a deep breath she brought her normal playful persona back and spoke matter of factly. “Your ‘patrol area’ is just that way, by the way~” she jabbed her thumb over her shoulder and tilted her head. “I watched you for about two go arounds before I realized you  _ were  _ actually lost~” she watched as Elenore took on a look of pure dramatized betrayal before blushing as realization that- yes, her ‘patrol area’ was in fact- in that direction. 

Although Cordelia thought everything Elenore did was cute, she had to admit watching her figuring out she actually wasn’t lost was adorable. Slithering closer she smirked before honeyedly whispering. “Until we next meet,  _ Sir _ Elenore of Spades.” and placed a gentle kiss on her cheek before promptly turning on her heels and slinking away with a wave of her hand and not a look back.

Elenore blinked, then she blinked again. Did that- did that just happen. She looked to Deck who was, impressively for a horse, gobsmacked. Okay, so that definitely just happened. Cordelia had kissed her- had  _ kissed _ her. Sure it was on the cheek but it was still a kiss. She felt the heat rising in her cheeks. Looking back to Deck he was giving her an accusing look. “Don’t look at me like that!” she shook her finger at him, he (again, impressively for a horse- and with an accompanied head roll) rolled his eyes at her before walking in the direction in which Cordelia had pointed out. “Hey! You don’t have any right to look at me like that, do you remember the apple incident you  _ traitor _ .” she began storming to catch up. “Just because it was a nice day and we had called a truce didn’t mean you could eat the apples she offered.” Deck threw his head in a figure eight and huffed. “Oh, her apples were better- Hers were caramel covered!” 

Elenore and Deck had a one sided bickering match all the way back through the patrol area and back to the Castle of Spades. 

*******

Cordelia turned on her heels quickly as possible to hide her rapidly reddening face and slinked away with a wave of her hand and not a look back (Hopefully it looked cool, she hoped it looked cool, she felt silly- Elenore was right it's really hot out today). After she was out of sight she held her breath... and ran- she ran. She ran as far away from where Elenore just was as quickly as possible. When she felt she was far enough, she planted her face promptly into the soft pillowy top of a mushroom and squealed. She kissed Elenore- she kissed her!- Sure it was a cheek kiss but it was still a kiss. 

She wasn’t about to deny that Elenore was- in fact- her rival, and it will only ever be a rivalry. Yes, it must stay a rivalry. Just a normal rivalry in which they find reasons to make truces with each other on beautiful days and fight when they feel like it (laughing and smiles and playful banter, and helping each other bandage wounds). Of course there was no denying the flirting Cordelia did because she loved watching Elenore flush and she had to face the facts- Elenore was not a very good flirter. But her blonde hair fell so perfectly over her shoulder in it's loose braid. And her eyes were the very definition of beautiful. And the way the sun danced across her features. The very forest arching towards her wanting her warmth. But yes, it will only ever stay a rivalry- the White Knight was the Rival of the Red Knight after all.

No matter how many times Cordelia wished she’d be able to be more than a rival- which was more than her stubborn self would like to admit- there was also the problem of  _ Sir _ Elenore of Spades being the Princess and she- she was just Cordelia- of Boards. 

“There’s only a week left until the ‘Wright of Heritage’ Mad Hatter,” the woman wore a white shift with a dark blue strap dress over it, a brown scarf wrapped loosely around her head (Chess guessed this was her way of trying to hide her redish hair.) Gloved hands were delicately placed in her lap. She looked around the crowded room with disinterest. “I am sure you understand that I cannot force my counterparts to hurry their decisions... in my opinion they’ll wait until  _ after _ to come to a decision.” 

Mont ran his hands through his hair frustrated. “That's exactly why we need it done  _ before _ ,” he looked up at the woman, his eyes were tired. “It’ll be too late then.”

“I am sorry Mont,” the woman’s voice held truth to her words. “I truly am. I can only do so much as the smallest Kingdom. Clubs is dwarfed by the others already- not just in land claim but in diplomatic matters as well.” 

“I-I Know,” he sighed, “I just wished Irene was here, she- she would have been so much more smarter about this,” Monts shoulders slumped as he pulled out the pocket watch and thumbed the outside metal. The woman (Queen of Clubs) smiled softly. 

Chess listened from their hiding spot, if only they could tell their father what they had planned. 

“Psst,” Chess slowly turned their head to see Cordelia, on her stomach- in his hiding crawl space, smiling at him like a mad man (waving her hand like an excited child). Whisper yelling towards them. “Stop being a creep and come on! Mousey found that last thing you were looking for.” and with that she started shimming her way backwards and out, before stopping and looking at him again, an even dorkier smile on her face “Also I kissed the Princess of Spades”. 

Chess could only look dumbfounded at where she just was… She- well, okay then.

Crawling out of their now not so hidden hiding spot they walked into the room proper where their little posse was. ‘Shire was lying lazily across the rafters batting at one of the lanterns. Tweedle- Dee (or was it Dum?) was rummaging through a crate- no doubt looking for goods- and the other was, actually just sitting there. Mousey walked the table looking over the papers that were collected over the course of the year Chess had been planning this. Cordelia was now sitting on a stool sharpening her sword.

“So, you found it?” Chess asked Mousey as they made it to the table.

Mousey’s ears twitched in that way they do when she wanted to ask something but knew better of it. Slowly she untied the ring she had strapped to her back and layed it in front of Chess. The dark hematite gemstone was cut into the shape of a Club with yellow topaz accenting stones around it. Their mother’s ring, the ring she promised to explain and pass on to them one day. 

“ _ Isn’t that? _ ” ‘Shire gasped and allowed herself to slide off the rafter and deftly land and loom over them, the shining ring glimmered in her eyes. “ _ Jack~ why did your mother have that? _ ” 

Chess ignored her and stared at it, this was the final piece of their plan. “How's everyone dancing skills?” 

*******

Clayton Red, the Red Prince of the Kingdom of Hearts, and Heir to the Hearts throne. He always thought that was a long and obnoxious title, he stared at himself in the mirror, his freshly cut and stained hair looked too… perfect for the way he felt. Wrong, off,  _ not ready _ . He took pride in his look and made sure they reflected who he was as a person and well… this fresh hair, clean face, and pristine clothing made him feel- less like himself. He knew it was just his nerves, three days before  _ the _ ‘Wright of Heritage’ would do that to someone. Sure he's attended prestigious balls and galas before (mainly running around with the other heirs and Chess as the little gremlins they were causing trouble) but this- this was going to determine who he was as a ruler. He wasn’t ready for the pressure of it all. 

“Red Prince?” there was a knock at his door as Guinevere popped her head in, she was a good friend and he had asked if she would take him up on the offer of becoming his Time Keeper when he began his rule. Reluctantly (or rather flusteredly) she had agreed. “I um, I was told to come and see if you were ready… the carriage awaits and your mother- ah, the Queen states we’ve dallied too long and must leave post haste if we wish to be among the first arriving at our destination.” 

He couldn’t help the teasing smile from forming. “And what do you think,” he ears twitched in question “You are going to be my Time Keeper- my advisor, your opinion is of importance to me, please do not hesitate to speak up on any matter.” He watched as her ears straightened bolt right and she began to stand on her toes with every word he spoke. “So, what do you think… is it wise to leave post haste or~” he lolly-gagged in place a bit before finishing “Should we sneak to the kitchen and get some snacks for the road.”

She gaped at him before she placed a hand on her chin thoughtfully, foot tapping the ground slightly. “Hm, it is a three days journey~” he hummed in agreement. “And I'm sure we’ll try and push forward as long as we can before breaks~” she thought out loud. “It couldn’t hurt, I mean- we wouldn’t want you going hungry.” they both smiled as they were already heading toward the servants door across the hall.

*******

Elenore groaned as her mother fussed over her hair pulling and pinning and brushing and smoothing, four hours till the ‘Wright of Heritage’ and she had been fussing over her hair for almost the past two! “Mother~ it's fine! I’m already done up like a daft fool!” She whined.

“Elenore Knight,” Her mother's voice was sharp. “You do not look like a daft fool, you look beautiful and you best act the way your dressed, I hope you don’t have any hidden weapons on you.” she held her hand out and Elenore let out the loudest sigh she could muster (her shoulders sagging with the effect) before begrudgingly handing over her silver Spade dagger. Her mother coughed and wiggled her fingers. Elenore huffed and pulled out the three other daggers she had on her. 

“It's not fair the boys get to carry their swords.” Elenore moaned. 

“They get to because they’re  _ boys _ .”

“You got to.”

“Because I  _ was _ .”

“It's still not fair mother,” she huffed, smacking the puffiness of her white ball gown (which engulfed her almost entirely). “I don't feel myself in this puffy  _ tent _ and I don't feel right without my sword.” She looked up at her mother with her face slightly down cast (her ultimate puppy dog eyes). Her mother's eyebrow rose slowly, before finally.

Her mother sagged slightly and sighed before smiling defeatedly. “Very well, I’ll see what we have.” Elenore gasped and began bouncing in her spot. “But! Your sword  _ must _ stay sheathed at all times during this.” her mother pointed at her almost accusingly. Elenore just nodded (her mother was afraid her head would fall off).

*******

The ‘Wright of Heritage’ takes place on one of the biggest Floating Land masses in Wonder. The flooring is weathered tile of black and white pieces, not of old age but due to it being bare to the conditions of Wonders weather patterns. Old pillars wrapped in ivy outlined the flooring. A long stage where four sets of three thrones sat had the only covering from the sun; on the very left side of the stage a giant stone statue of a Gryphon looks on as if to be listening to the statue at the very right side of the stage. The Mock Turtle looks out over the tiled flooring and partially is turned towards it's Gryphon counterpart.

Both the Royals and the Nobles of the Kingdoms were here. Not only was it seen as a very,  _ highly _ , prestigious ball to be seen at but it was also a chance for Nobles to slither their way into Royal families- if an Heir chooses. 

Clayton was… annoyed. The Nobles were nothing but vultures and he and his fellow Heirs were their prey. It's bad enough he was sweating his parade dress uniform (complete with the clinking-clanking sound of his metals) made him feel like a monkey, his sash wasn’t sitting properly, and his shoes had already begun to lose their shine. Gripping the hilt of his saber he sighed into his drink. 

“I see I’m not the only one ready for this to be over.” He heard Elenore chuckle from behind him. Turning she was wearing, not a ball gown, but instead a white silhouette dress with black ruffles all down the back extenuated by the bustle he was sure her mother had to force her into. She carried her sword by it's hilt in one hand as she fussed with the headpiece. 

“Physically I’m here, mentally~” he handed her a crystalline glass and nodded to it in a secret ‘you’ll see’. She took a quizzical sniff and quickly wrinkled her nose before a face of dawning understanding appeared. 

“Ah, well- I’m glad i wasn’t the only one,” she pulled a small flask from her dress and smirked. “How long before we start seeing the Mock Turtle actually talking” she joked. 

“Well his head started slowly,  _ slowly _ , moving for me about-” he hissed through his teeth thinking, staring at the Statue. “An hour into this thing.” he guesstimated. They stood there a minute before laughing. 

“Have you seen the Royal of Diamonds yet?” Elenore finally asked when she had enough air back in her lungs, wiping away a tear that had formed. “I, unfortunately, will be taking the ‘figure out alliances’ part seriously. I know our Kingdoms haven’t been the tightest as they have been in the past but.” She shrugged. 

Smiling Clayton nodded knowingly. “We Heirs have been very blessed being able to grow up so closely as we have, I do believe it will make such alliances easier and hopefully they will be almost the same in calabar- if not equal- with each of us.” He was lucky he grew up knowing the others as friends, hearing how it used to be he couldn’t think of it being like that for him and the other Heirs now. “As for knowing where Xe are, I'm not quite sure-” 

Crash! There was a commotion. There was yelling and laughter, cried of terror and giggles of delight. A rambunctious crew of mischief makers rushed and began making havoc, jumping on tables and kicking trays, barking at Nobles and stealing their hats to try on. All while the rapscallious looking leader walked calmly into the middle, the very familiar top hat was removed from their head, and in a very familiar over flourished bow- The Jack of all Trades grinned at the Royals. 


End file.
